


Bear Trap

by orphan_account



Category: Chikara (Professional Wrestling)
Genre: Begging, Choking, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, M/M, Manipulation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Imbalance, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5219132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy's last-ditch attempt to control his monster go sorely awry. Granted, they went awry pretty much as soon as he started thinking of Deucalion as "his" monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bear Trap

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a light story. The action within it is theoretically consensual, but the relationship is itself deeply unhealthy. Please protect yourself; caveat lector.

Deucalion is rapidly becoming unmanageable.

Not that he was ever “manageable” in any real sense, not that he was ever someone _to_ be managed, but Jimmy still feels like his control is slipping. If he ever had any control of the situation. If his control wasn’t simply an illusion that Deucalion allowed him because it was amusing.

Because Deucalion _does_ have a sense of humor. He _does_ smile. But his smiles are terrible and rare, they are the smiles that you see on the faces of wolves waiting to strike a faltering buck, and his humor is a trap from which you can only escape by giving up a limb.

Jimmy is and has been prepared for many things, but that bear-trap smile is not one of them, and he was never planning on losing any limbs.

All he wanted was power, but he’s gotten in over his head.

And he always wore the chain around his neck for the look of it, but the steel is getting heavier and heavier, he can feel the chill of it biting into his skin whenever he looks at the creature he thought he could control and the masks of the fallen grow heavy around his waist and apprehension pools at the base of his spine.

He’s probably going to die.

He might need to switch up his tactics.

* * *

 

Now the links of the chain are digging into the back of his neck and there are massive thumbs in the hollow of his throat, palms splayed across his collarbone, fingers tight on his shoulders, and Deucalion will certainly kill him soon but it’ll be a different kind of death. Deucalion has two hungers, and Jimmy will feed this one if it means protecting himself from the other. ( _And when did protecting_ **himself** _become the issue here, how early was it that he lost control?_ )

He is riding the Titan. Which sounds dramatic, and if anyone's watching it probably _looks_ dramatic, but it is also a terrible ache in his hips and thighs (spread so wide that his lower legs barely touch the floor), it is also a choking grip and a roughness in the back of his throat from before (when he got on his knees and made Deucalion an offer that Deucalion did not refuse).

Deucalion did not speak then and does not speak now, but his black eyes are on Jimmy's face and he is smiling his hunting smile. The movement of his hips as he thrusts is an earthquake.

At least, Jimmy thinks with grim cheer, he isn't wearing the mask.

Deucalion thrusts harder and twists his hands in the chain around Jimmy's neck, pulling Jimmy's head in close. When he comes he whispers, with bear-trap humor, “Coward.”

And he's finished.

 _Jimmy_ is the only one of them panting. Deucalion hasn't touched him, and he hasn't dared touch himself, because that would involve dividing his attention. He'll take care of himself once Deucalion lets him go. If Deucalion is ever going to let him go.

As if on cue, Deucalion's gaze travels down his chest, and then he murmurs, humorously, “Would you like me to treat you like a lover?”

The trap snaps shut.

Jimmy lets himself slump against Deucalion's chest and says, “Yes.”

A long silence.

“Yes, _please._ ”

He's lost control.

* * *

 

There's a mountainous shift upwards as Deucalion pulls his knees up, lifting Jimmy entirely free of the floor so that he has to trust Deucalion to hold him. Deucalion's cock slips out of him, and he feels oddly empty for a moment until one vast hand leaves his throat and a finger presses into his ass. It feels somehow almost as big as what it's replacing. Which is impossible.

The rush of air as Deucalion lets go of his throat entirely is almost erotic in and of itself. There's a pause in which he tries to solidify his hold on the other man's shoulders, and then warm, slick fingers wrap around his cock.

Deucalion is almost gentle with him. Jimmy shuts his eyes and pretends that he's not terrified and it _does_ feel good, pressing back onto the finger in his ass and forward into the stroking hand. He rests his forehead in the curve where Deucalion's neck meets his shoulders and takes the pleasure that's there.

He's close now. He can feel it, he's shuddering against Deucalion's chest, his muscles are tightening—

There's a cruel pinch at the base of his cock and he jolts upward, eyes going wide, cut off right at the brink of orgasm.

Deucalion pushes a second finger into him and says, quite conversationally, “You thought I was just a puppet. Your puppet.”

Jimmy is gasping. “I...what?”

“You thought you were the clever man who could control the monster. But the truth is, Jimmy Jacobs, _I_ am the clever one, and you are just my mouthpiece.” He twists his fingers, the movement eased by his own leavings and the lubricant that still remains. “You were hollow until I filled you. A puppet.”

On animal instinct Jimmy rocks back onto the two fingers inside him, trying desperately to get back to that edge of pleasure. Even the barest sparks he feels are tantalizing.

“Go ahead,” the Titan says, like a prompt. There is the teasing brush of a third finger; for a wild moment Jimmy is certain that Deucalion is planning to put the whole _hand_ in him, which is just enough of an arousing thought to be terrifying in a different way. “Say you're my puppet.”

“I'm your puppet,” Jimmy chokes out. “I'm your puppet, I have to, I need to—”

Deucalion continues speaking as if he didn't hear what Jimmy said after what he was told to. “You put the collar on yourself, dog, but _I_ was the one who saw it for what it was. I should leash you and let you crawl before me to the ring like a hound before a hunter, and loose you only to bring down my prey and drag it back to me.” He strokes a finger up the underside of Jimmy's cock and then clamps down again as soon as Jimmy makes a needy sound. “Then the world would see you for what you are.”

This time it only takes a _look_ from him for Jimmy to say, “I'm your dog.”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to, I _need—_ ”

Deucalion raises an eyebrow. “The dog is not rewarded until it has pleased its master.”

Jimmy is in agony and it's _good,_ it feels like an agony that he could live inside indefinitely, but there's also within it the constant desperate yearning to let go, he wants, he _needs,_ he takes a shuddering breath and swallows hard and says, “What can I do to please you?”

“Sit up, dog, and beg.”

Jimmy raises his eyes and meets Deucalion's gaze.

Deucalion smiles. “Beg as if your life depended on it.”

Jimmy is quivering and he's afraid and he's desperate and he aches and he _snaps._ “Please. _Please._ Please let me, please don't keep me like this, please let me _come,_ I'll do anything.” There are tears in his eyes. He's not sure if they're tears of fear or of arousal, at this point he's not sure if he can tell the two apart and honestly he may be too broken to _ever_ make the distinction again. “I'll die, I'll kill, I'll grovel, I'll lick your boots, please, do anything you want to me only _please,_ please, pleasepleaseplease let me go, please _allow_ me—” or something along those lines, he's not sure of his own coherence at this point.

“You may.” The fingers inside him crook and hit his prostate, and the hand around his cock loosens and _strokes,_ and he comes hard and painfully and it's exquisite, it's the best he's ever felt.

And he is naked and shaking in Deucalion's lap and Deucalion's hands leave him and he feels _empty._

Deucalion looks down at his own chest and says, “You have made a mess.” He grabs the chain around Jimmy's neck again. “Clean up your mess, dog.”

Jimmy drops to his knees on the floor in front of Deucalion and leans forward and starts to lick.

He feels the rumble of Deucalion's laughter through his _tongue._ “ _Good_ dog.”

 


End file.
